The abominable snowman and the polka dot princess

Sometimes at the end of the day and I feel bitter. At the mountainous and growing stack of things that are undone or incomplete. At the rabid clutter that is cornering me in my own house. At the grime that is as obtrusive as an abominable snowman in my livingroom; in July, nonetheless. If he would let me I would dress him in wacky multi-colored knit hats, but I guess he is not the type. He hates to be coddled. He hates interruptions. But, I must continually remind myself, they are such good and lovely ones.

On Sunday I left chuch service early to play with my polka dot princess because her gleeful squeals were disruptive. I left to marvel at how big she has grown in a few short months. To watch her be precocious and plunky, silly and smiley. She waves and tries to say "Hi" to everyone that walks by. She tries, usually successfully, to eat shoes. She tries to show everyone how to find milk. She giggles and squawks and gives her own sermons quite loudly.

Then we had a lovely brunch out with my great mother in law at a new restaurant that features local farm food and delectible things like honey lemon lavendar scones and smoked gouda grits. Nevermind that mysterious magnetic forces kept dragging my sons to the floor or that aliens had come and absconded with their manners and instead just put rude and demanding epitaphs in their heads. Who knows maybe they had an encounter with Mr.A. Snowman that has traumatized them for life.

The Polka Dot Princess is all played out

I did get some great snuggles and naps with Miss P.D. Princess. And we finally got to taste the first five blueberries we had grown on our own bushes. Little orbs of goodness.

Later Evan helped get kids dinner. Number one and number three went for a walk with me and
We ended evening telling stories about our pet dragon. His name is Oogaloo.

Perhaps I hate things like the dishes so much because they are actually very obtrusive interruptions to the rest of my real life- the one that comes complete with calls from my yetti!!

The sounds of silence.

It is 9:30pm and the train has just gone by. That breath going in and out is Evan joining everyone else in my household in sleep.

January 2011

 Even the dogs have stopped their barking. The dinner is put away. Tonight organic beans and wild rice, with chard from my garden and corn bread made almost entirely by Connor, while Cris had a trumpet lesson with dad and Cali took a nap. Finally a few moments, that seem so far apart, for this mama to sit and dwell in the loveliness of these everyday things. (My new parental strategy is to never, not ever, even think about what you are going to do when the kids go to bed. I swear they have some kind of telepathic crawlers that get inside my brain and the moment that I start thinking such self-centered thoughts their child radar goes off that they are about to miss something really important and they will never, not ever, go to sleep. Then mama never gets to do said things or write about how much she adores them and learns from them). 

My little big foot

I spend so much time thinking about just how much I have in these moments and how much I want to write about from each day, how much I want to bottle this joy up, tape it, jot it down, how much I want to squeeze every ounce from it; return to it. But this life just doesn't sit still. It's learning to crawl-scratch that, stand even walk, around the table- it needs a hug, a bandaid, a bounce, a kiss.  

Move from your daydreams or the dinner has burned. It started like creme brulee but is coming out more like mud pie. This recipe works best when we try to remember what grandma suggested, but do not follow the rules, make do with what you have, throw everything in, expect super powers, and lick your fingers along the way.                                

We are on a journey one minute, towards a specific destination, and then suddenly I am looking back at roadsigns, backwards, in my rear view mirror. I'm beginning to see why there are so few books fiction or otherwise featuring the beauty of parenthood and about the joys of cultivating a love in the middle of that chaos. I keep trying to take notes, but usually must succumb instead to taking a nap, to going to bed.

And that thud that you now hear-it is my head hitting the pillow.

Yes Mother and the Milk Mischief

"Yes, Mother!" It is a lament, dripping with sarcasm, that is usually uttered by Connor whenever he is annoyed at what I have asked him to do. But I have decided I am also trying to make this my new parenting mantra. I want to be a "yes" mother. Not because I think that my kids should be able to have a carte blanche to do anything they want, but because I feel as parents, and as a society, we spend a heck of a lot of time and energy stiffeling kids' beautiful enthusiasm by attempting to force them to behave "properly"; to not embarass us. Don't make a mess. Don't go too fast. Don't take that chance. Don't eat that. How many times have I told you...

In the photography class I have been taking one of the prompts was to photograph a mess. One day sitting next to the boys, while my out of town relatives were visiting, they started to blow bubbles in their milk. I caught myself about to say "Don't..."this is embarassing" and then I stopped. I looked at those sparkles and shimmers. How beautifully they stuck and stacked together. I thought about how enticing and fun that was to do as a child- even when we got caught.

I didn't really care what the others thought. In fact, perhaps I changed my mind, just because of what they might have thought. Because of the many things I never got to do. Because of the many things kids never get to do, mostly for inane reasons having merely to do with inconveniencing grown-ups. As so wisely stated in The Little Prince by Antoine Saint Exupery, Les grandes personnes ne comprennent jamais rien toutes seules, et c'est fatigant, pour les enfants, de toujours et toujours leur donner des explications. (Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.) So tiresome.

But this was a mess. A mess in the making. A beautiful mess. A silly-fun-giggle-till you fall over-kind of mess. A memory making kind of mess. So instead I grabbed my camera and I said, "Do it again". They delightfully obliged. These are now two of my favorite photographs of all time.

 

One of my favorite graduate education professors, Dr. Kathryn Castle, once said, "you know a child is most able to learn and having fun when they are so intent on doing something that doing that thing becomes more important then the risk of getting caught". Indeed. 

So here are some things I'm trying to more consciously say yes to:
-To slowing down
-To going fast
-To doing it again and again and again
-To experiments
-To inventions
-To recipes
-To messes
-To mistakes
-To being loud
-To acting our age
-To making a scene
-To being seen
-To seeing
-To being heard
-To hearing

Greetings from planet Kutcha Kutcha!

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A number of months back, Cris told me that at night he never sleeps but that some aliens from planet Kutcha Kutcha come and get him every night and he goes with them. Oh yeah, and we are not actually his real parents. The aliens have brought him here to put him in our care. So in honor of his *SIX* year old birthday (and thanks to a great Groupon!) he got this book- from Planet Kutcha Kutcha, of course!

Seventh Heaven

Polka dot princess

My sweet baby turned seven months old this past week. So hard to believe. This has been a month of smiles, sits, swings, and now, sand. What lovely transitions we have been seeing. Mostly we've been learning more of her sense of humor. The joy she typically exudes has has sprouted into laughter. It is always awesome to see just what is funny to a baby and to remember that so many things they are seeing for the very first time. She laughs at her brothers, (mostly at their jumps), at faces reappearing, at bouncing, at others colliding, at swinging. She laughs at being startled and she laughs when I admonish Cris for sucking her toes.

Thursday's child, has far to go, but she can now sit up

 The other day as I was holding her facing out by the armpits, she leaned to far forward and did an actual front flip in my hands. After a few seconds of tears she laughed at the feat. Then she reached out her hands together admonishing me to clap for her. I do clap for you. Go baby go! Take risks, be brave, Smile at your falterings, find those reasons to laugh in every situation. I applaud your little words for mamama, ta-da, (dad) and momomom (grandma) and your need to know. I applaud your gentle spirit and how you seek to comfort as well as be comforted- your little snuggles and the way you always rub my arm and my face when I am holding you. And I applaud how you can use that little thumb to make yourself so content.

I love that trademark tongue; perhaps because it is an inherited trait you get from me. I love how you stick it out for slyness, for sillyness; and if you are always trying to stretch it to something you just can't reach. You sticks it out to concentrate, when reaching and when plotting just how you are going to reach every beautiful thing in the world before you.

She has perfected the art of sitting and has the most perfectly poised balance. She focuses on every tiny detail and can find the most minute objects before her. She always seems to make a plan before deciding where she is going to go next. She scopes things out in a 360 shuffle and then does a lovely side stretch to show off how far she's come.  And if you are not looking, somehow, she shuffles about three little feet from A to B. Slowly to all fours and then down. But if you are looking, she stops.

Starbright

Cups are something she begs for. Water is super fun from a cup and she does a pretty reasonable job of drinking it if someone else holds the cup. We have been introducing some new foods. She is skeptical of the mushy things and only eager for us to give her authentic food. Sugar snap pea pods, fresh from the farm, are currently her favorite thing to gnaw on. She gives up great protest when it is time to take it away.

Pea pods!

Yesterday I sat her down in a sandbox. The uncertainty made her cry the first few minutes. Then an apprehensive taste. She was shortly, one sloppy little sister. We would expect nothing less...

Sandy smiles